


Sparring

by justdk



Series: Andreil Week 2018 [6]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Dominance, Fluff, Grinding, M/M, Sparring, clothed getting off, idk what all to tag this...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 09:34:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15216278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justdk/pseuds/justdk
Summary: Andrew teaches Neil to fight and Neil discovers something he really, really likes ;)





	Sparring

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Andreil Week 2018, Day 6: Fist Fight (even though there is no fist fight)
> 
> Also to fulfill a prompt: Hey, have you ever done an “andreil sparring lesson that turned (nsfw)filthy” drabble/fic?? And if not, would that be something your interested in?? Xo

“Today I’m going to teach you how to fight,” Andrew announces.

Neil eyes him for a moment before rolling over and burying his face in his pillow. They’ve won the championship, Riko is dead, and for once Neil is feeling safe, like he can let his guard down.

“Or we could sleep in,” Neil mutters, his voice muffled by the pillow.

Usually Andrew is all for sleeping in or spending extra time in bed being lazy but today he’s implacable.

“You’re healed up and well rested,” Andrew says, yanking the covers off Neil and tugging at his hips to drag him off the bed. “This is no time to get complacent.”

“Andrew…” Neil aims a weak kick at Andrew’s thigh but it never connects. Andrew grabs his ankle, pushes Neil’s leg back, and closes the distance, climbing on top of Neil and pinning him to the bed before Neil has time to raise any type of defense. He tries a few moves to break free but Andrew neatly counters each of them. Finally Neil sighs in defeat. “Yield,” he grumbles into Andrew’s chest.

“That,” Andrew says as he releases Neil, “is why you need training.”

Neil scowls and clambers off the bed. He strips off his sleep shirt, tossing it at Andrew’s face. Andrew bats it away, his momentary distraction giving Neil time to drop down and perform a sweep kick to Andrew’s calf, sending him to the floor.

“Ha!” Neil pops back up and offers Andrew a hand. “Not bad, right?”

Andrew takes his hand and gets to his feet, rubbing his butt. “Are you going to strip for all of your future opponents?” he asks.

“Only you,” Neil replies with a wink.

Andrew snorts and gives Neil’s ass a smack before saying, “We’re leaving in five so hurry up and put on clothes, junkie.”

Neil hums to himself and changes into his usual gym attire: Adidas track pants, a roomy black T-shirt, his armbands, and an elastic band to keep his hair out of his eyes. He feels pretty good about knocking Andrew on his ass and he’s looking forward to their sparring date. Andrew thinks he’s clueless when it comes to self-defense and Neil can’t wait to show him how wrong he is.

He finds Andrew and Kevin talking in the kitchen and Neil trips over his feet when he sees what Andrew’s wearing.

“Where did you… when… what…” Neil splutters, feeling his face heat. “What are you wearing?”

“Oh, this?” Andrew plucks at his skintight black tank. “It’s called a racerback, Neil.”

Andrew turns around and Neil realizes that the shirt is even more amazing than he thought. Andrew’s shoulders are completely exposed, as are most of his sides and upper back. Neil doesn’t know where to look.

Kevin starts going on about how he likes that style of shirt because it doesn’t restrict his movement but Neil isn’t attending. He’s transfixed by how Andrew’s muscles shift and flex as he opens the fridge and leans in to retrieve a couple bottles of Gatorade. Neil feels like he could drink an entire bottle right now, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Hands up,” Andrew calls out before tossing the bottle at Neil. Unbelievably, Neil totally misses it, the bottle smacking into his chest and rolling away. Kevin yells at Neil for being useless and Neil’s face is _flaming_ as he bends over and picks up his drink. Andrew’s doing this on purpose, throwing him off before they even get to the gym.

“I hate you,” Neil says.

“Stop stealing my lines,” Andrew replies.

Neil rolls his eyes and pushes past Andrew on the way to the door. Their arms brush, sending a tingle racing over his skin and making his heart lurch. He’s so not ready for this.

—–

The gym isn’t too crowded when they arrive and most of the other students are congregated in the weight room or on the treadmills and ellipticals. Neil feels a bit self-conscious without the rest of the team; he hasn’t been able to live the anonymous life he wanted but at least when he’s with the Foxes he’s part of a unit. Right now he feels like everyone is looking at him and Andrew. They’re probably looking at Andrew. Neil is looking at Andrew. Again.

They do warm ups and stretches together and Neil loses that edgy, watched feeling. He smiles to himself and glances over at Andrew. He likes working out with Andrew. It goes beyond admiring Andrew’s build and strength, he likes that this is something they can do as equals. And without Kevin bitching at them. It’s practically peaceful.

Once they finish stretching Andrew lays out his plan for the morning, which is teaching Neil the basics of Brazilian jiu jitsu.

Neil stifles a sigh. “I’m not complaining,” he says, “but I know how to fight. Not anything formal, but if someone comes at me I know how to take them down.”

“Right,” Andrew agrees, “and you have the scars to prove it. But you’re not fighting for your life these days and it’s time for you to learn a fighting style that is low on collateral damage. If you get in a knock-down-drag-out fight with someone like Matt you’re going to suffer for it. Brazilian jiu jitsu teaches you a method most people aren’t familiar with, one that works to your advantage no matter your size.”

“For the record,” Neil interjects, “I would never fight someone Matt-sized. I would run. Or get you to fight them.”

“Solid strategies,” Andrew nods. “Any more grievances?” Neil shakes his head. “Good. Let’s begin.”

Brazilian jiu jitsu, Neil soon discovers, is similar to wrestling in that it involves full body contact, grappling, and being on the ground the majority of the time. Andrew coaches him with his bored, flat voice but Neil is dying inside as Andrew’s arms wrap around his hips and Andrew guides them into a controlled fall to the mat. Immediately Andrew climbs on top of him, much to Neil’s surprise and quiet delight.

“This is called the mount position,” Andrew says. He’s straddling Neil’s hips, his hands pressing down on Neil’s shoulders.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Neil mutters. He knows he’s blushing but he can’t help it.

Andrew laughs a little. “Yeah, that’s what I said when I was learning.”

Neil stares up at Andrew and is awed all over again by how good he looks, his blonde hair falling around his face, hazel eyes warm and lively, lips parted. Neil squirms a little. Andrew’s body resting on top of his is bringing back a lot of remembered sensations, none of which are appropriate for the gym.

“Okay,” Andrew continues. “I’m going to show you how to trap your opponent. What you do is shove your hips down,” Andrew demonstrates, his hips crushing against Neil’s, “and you put all your weight on them. Feel that?”

Neil nods dumbly. Yep, he can feel that. All of _that_.

“Next I bring my feet up and I hook my legs behind yours.” Andrew’s calves are firmly tucked behind Neil’s knees, immobilizing his legs. “My knees aren’t touching the mat so right now you’re holding all of my weight,” Andrew continues, completely unbothered by their tight contact. He wraps his right arm behind Neil’s neck, trapping Neil’s face against his chest. “Try shoving me off.”

Neil braces his hands on Andrew’s waist, the only place he can conceivably reach with Andrew’s hold on his neck, and pushes. And accomplishes nothing. He tries again, pushing harder, panting with the effort.

“Can’t do it, can you?” Neil can hear a shade of amusement in Andrew’s voice. He can also hear Andrew’s heart pounding, or maybe that’s his heart. Andrew’s holding him so tightly, their bodies locked together in a way they’ve never been. Neil tries to focus on the lesson, to not let his thoughts get carried away but _fuck_. Andrew is literally mounting him, holding him down with all of his weight and Neil finds that… very exciting.

Andrew releases his hold on Neil’s neck and legs and sits up. His cheeks are lightly flushed and a bead of sweat trickles from his forehead down the side of his face. Neil swipes the sweat away without thinking. His mind feels like it’s still trapped in Andrew’s hold, still processing all the ways they connected and how – despite the fact that Andrew’s trying to teach him to fight and defend himself – all he could feel in that moment was safe. And good. Really, really good.

“Well?” Andrew asks. He’s still straddling Neil, leaning over him with his hands braced on the mat beside Neil’s head. Neil has a perfect, flawless view of how Andrew’s new shirt stretches over his chest. He wants to touch, scratch his nails over Andrew’s bare shoulders, get back in that tight, consuming clutch with Andrew wrapped around him. Neil’s breathing goes unsteady just thinking about it and he feels hot, too hot.

“You may need to show me again,” he pants. “The part where you… where you hooked your legs through mine? I don’t think I got that part.”

Andrew stares hard at him and leans down until his hair brushes Neil’s forehead.

“I’m calling bullshit, Josten,” Andrew whispers. He lowers himself the rest of the way until they’re pressed chest to chest. Neil gasps. The desire to grab hold of Andrew is almost too much temptation.

“Andrew… my hands, too…” He doesn’t know what kind of face he’s making but Andrew’s eyes darken in response. He grabs Neil’s wrists and pins them.

Neil shudders, something breaking loose inside. Andrew’s breath is warm on his neck and Neil wants his mouth there, sucking at his skin. He wants Andrew’s hips driving against his until the friction makes them breathless and hard, until they both get off. Fuck he’s already half hard as it is.

“Andrew…” Neil can hardly breathe around the feeling pounding through him.

“Neil,” Andrew’s voice is quiet but firm, the tone he uses when calling Neil back from a panic attack or bad dream. “What do you need?”

“I want you to move your hips again,” Neil can’t look Andrew in the eyes when he says it so he focuses on his mouth. “Like you did when you first… ummm mounted me.” He’s going to die, whether Andrew does what he wants or not. There’s no way he’s living this down.

“We’re in public,” Andrew reminds him. But he doesn’t get off Neil.

Neil struggles to stay totally still. “You could make it look like what we were already doing?”

“Dry humping you into the mat is not the same thing as teaching you a basic jiu jitsu move.” Andrew rolls off Neil, leaving him aching and wanting and messed up, but not for long. He pulls Neil up and leads the way out of the gym. Neil follows Andrew in a daze. They’re both sweaty and attracting looks but Neil barely registers the attention. His body is alight with the hope that Andrew will pick up where they left off.

They get back to the room and Andrew locks the door behind them. He wastes no time in bringing Neil to the floor and locking him in the hold.

“Are you okay?” Andrew’s voice is rough in his ear.

Neil bobs his head. “Yes, yes. God, Andrew, this…” He can’t say it because it’s too embarrassing. With anyone else he would hate this amount of full body contact, would hate his powerlessness. But submitting to Andrew makes his heart pound and his body ache. He wants and wants and wants.

Andrew moves slowly at first, his hips rolling steadily against Neil’s. Then, when Neil starts whining, he picks up the pace, thrusting harder. The rough friction is blowing Neil’s mind but the best part is Andrew. Every part of him is tied to Andrew, like a tree entwined with vines. He feels encompassed and complete, found. With Andrew in control he gives himself over to sensation and pleasure. He loves feeling Andrew’s dick rubbing against him, only separated by flimsy track pants and worn sweatpants. He loves the burn of Andrew’s heat soaking into him. He loves the way Andrew’s firm chest rubs over his front. He loves their shirts rucked up, slick stomachs sliding together. He loves how, no matter how hard he shakes as he comes undone, Andrew holds him tight and close and doesn’t pull away. He adores the way Andrew stiffens and shudders, his body relaxing against Neil’s, their earlier tension dissipating into soft release.

Their breathing quiets and Andrew releases Neil and moves off of him. They lie side by side on the dorm floor and Neil feels blissful and contented. He turns his head and finds Andrew looking at him, his eyelids heavy and sleepy.

Neil reaches for him and Andrew allows him to tuck his fingers into his damp hair.

“Thank you,” Neil whispers.

Andrew says nothing but his smile is all that Neil needs.

**Author's Note:**

> I watched an excellent series on [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZM_8-c1EqOY&t=1s) about Brazilian jiu jitsu but mostly used this episode as reference. I think this is a fascinating form of martial arts and I like that it’s less destructive than other fighting methods


End file.
